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5 That be assured, without leave ask'd of thee: Retire, or taste thy folly; and learn by proof, Hell-born, not to contend with spirits of Heav'n." To whom the goblin full of wrath reply'd ; (°) "Art thou that traitor Angel, art thou he, 10 Who first broke peace in Heav'n and faith, till then Unbroken, and in proud rebellious arms

Drew after him the third part of Heav'n's sons, Conjur'd against the High'est, for which both thou And they, outcast from God, are here condemn'd 15 To waste eternal days in woe and pain?

And reckon'st thou thyself with spirits of Heav'n, Hell-doom'd, and breath'st defiance here and scorn, Where I reign king, and, to enrage thee more, Thy king and lord? Back to thy punishment, 20 False fugitive, and to thy speed add wings, Lest with a whip of scorpions I pursue Thy ling'ring, or with one stroke of this dart, Strange horrors seize thee, and pangs unfelt before."

25.] Page 120.


The Exercises of the foregoing head were designed to accustom the voice to exertion on the extreme notes of its compass, high and low. The following Exercises under this head are intended to accustom the voice to those sudden transitions which sentiment often requires, not only as to pitch, but also as to quantity.


The Power of Eloquence.


1 HEARD ye

those loud contending waves,
That shook Cecropia's pillar'd state?
Saw ye the mighty from their graves
Look up, and tremble at her fate?
Who shall calm the angry storm?
Who the mighty task perform,

And bid the raging tumult cease?
See the son of Hermes rise;

With syren tongue, and speaking eyes,
Hush the noise, and sooth to peace!

2 Lo! from the regions of the North,
The reddening storm of battle pours;
Rolls along the trembling earth,
Fastens on the Olynthian towers.

3 (°) "Where rests the sword?-where sleep the brave?

Awake! Cecropia's ally save
From the fury of the blast;
Burst the storm on Phocis' walls;
Rise! or Greece for ever falls,

Up or Freedom breathes her last!"

4 (0) The jarring States, obsequious now,
View the Patriot's hand on high;
Thunder gathering on his brow,
Lightning flashing from his eye!

5 Borne by the tide of words along, One voice, one mind, inspire the throng: (0°) "To arms! to arms! to arms!" they cry, "Grasp the shield, and draw the sword, Lead us to Philippi's lord, Let us conquer him—or die !”

6 (0) Ah Eloquence! thou wast undone; Wast from thy native country driven, When Tyranny eclips'd the sun,

And blotted out the stars of heaven.

7 When Liberty from Greece withdrew, And o'er the Adriatic flew,

To where the Tiber pours his urn, She struck the rude Tarpeian rock; Sparks were kindled by the shockAgain thy fires began to burn!

8 Now shining forth, thou mad'st compliant The Conscript Fathers to thy charms; Rous'd the world-bestriding giant,

Sinking fast in Slavery's arms!

9 I see thee stand by Freedom's fane, Pouring the persuasive strain,

Giving vast conceptions birth:
Hark! I hear thy thunder's sound,
Shake the Forum round and round--
Shake the pillars of the earth!

10 First-born of Liberty divine!

Put on Religion's bright array;
Speak! and the starless grave shall shine
The portal of eternal day!

11 Rise, kindling with the orient beam; Let Calvary's hill inspire the theme!

Unfold the garments roll'd in blood!
O touch the soul, touch all her chords,
With all the omnipotence of words,

And point the way to Heaven-to God.


2. Hohenlinden....Description of a Battle with Firearms.

1 (6)On Linden, when the sun was low,
All bloodless lay the untrodden snow,
And dark as winter, was the flow
Of Iser, rolling rapidly.

2 But Linden saw another sight,
When the drum beat at dead of night,
Commanding fires of death to light

The darkness of her scenery.

3 By torch and trumpet fast arrayed, Each warriour drew his battle blade,

And furious every charger neighed,
To join the dreadful revelry.

4 Then shook the hills with thunder riven,
Then rushed the steeds to battle driven,
And louder than the bolts of Heaven,
Far flashed the red artillery.

5 And redder yet those fires shall glow,
On Linden's hills of bloodstained snow;
And darker yet shall be the flow
Of Iser rolling rapidly.

6 "Tis morn,-but scarce yon
lurid sun
Can pierce the war clouds, rolling dun,
While furious Frank and fiery Hun
Shout in their sulph'rous canopy.


The combat deepens. (°°) On, ye brave,
Who rush to glory, or the grave!
Wave, Munich, all thy banners wave!
And charge with all thy chivalry!


(°) Ah! few shall part where many meet!*
The snow shall be their winding sheet,

And every turf beneath their feet

Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.


3. Hamlet's Soliloquy.

This is one of the most difficult things to read in the English language. No one should attempt it without entering into the sentiment, by recurring to the story of Hamlet. The notation which I have given, however imperfect, may at least furnish the reader with some guide in the management of his voice. Want of discrimination, has been the common fault in reading this soliloquy.

To bé, or not to be?.. that is the question.-
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind, to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

* Soft.

Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, 5 And by opposing, end them?-To díe-to sleepNo more :--and, by a sleep, to say we end The heart-arch, and the thousand natural shocks That flesh is heir to ?-'tis a consummation Devoutly to be wish'd. To dìe ;-to sleep ;10 To sleep! perchance, to dream:-Ay, there's the rùb; For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, Must give us pause. There's the respect, That makes calamity of so long life;


15 For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,*
The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contùmely,
The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,
The insolence of office, and the spurns

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That patient merit of the unworthy takes ; 20 When he himself might his quietus make

With a bare bodkin? who would fardels bear,
To groan and sweat under a weary life?
() But that the dread of something after death,
That undiscover'd country, from whose bourne
25 No traveller returns, puzzles the will;

And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.

Thus conscience does make cowards of us all,-
And thus the native hue of resolution

30 Is sicklied o'er with the pàle cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.


Battle of Waterloo.

1 There was a sound of revelry by night, And Belgium's capital had gathered then


The indignant feeling awakened in Hamlet by this enumeration of particulars, requires the voice gradually to rise on each, till it comes to the mark of transition.

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